


Welcoming Dwobbits

by vtforpedro



Series: Concerning Fauntlings [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Dwobbits, Fluff and schmoop, Like I hope you guys get toothaches cause of this, M/M, Mpreg, Non-graphic descriptions of pre and post birth I guess, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 22:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been some months since Bilbo informed Thorin they were 'carrying' and he finally goes into labor. Thorin isn't exactly close by when it happens and Ori is concerned for the state of Erebor. A dwobbit is welcomed into the world, the Company gets to visit, and Dis is in love.</p>
<p>And some years later, we get a glimpse into King Thorin and Consort Bilbo's typical evening with a couple of dwobbits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcoming Dwobbits

“You’re cheating!”  
  
“Afraid not. You’re just terrible at this.”  
  
“I am not, I’ve been playing this since I was a wee lad! You are _cheating._ ”  
  
“I’m really not.”  
  
Bilbo watched Bofur and Nori argue over some odd card game that involved dice and strangely shaped tiles. They’d been at it for an hour now and Bofur had lost every single round. It was really quite amusing, though the hobbit honestly couldn’t tell if Nori _was_ cheating or not.  
  
He shook his head as they continued to argue, glancing at Ori who was sitting next to him, reading a rather large tome. He had a small smile on his lips as he did so, listening, and Bilbo felt a surge of fondness for the dwarf.  
  
Bilbo went back to his own book, nibbling at a plate of biscuits that had been packed full and had now dwindled down to a sad few. He would simply have to polish off his friends’ plates, as they seemed more distracted in their activities to care about their own biscuits.  
  
The hobbit often had company at all times of the day considering his state - ready to pop, as Oin had put it. His belly was uncomfortably large and he was really rather done with this whole pregnancy business, thank you very much. His feet were swollen and his back ached and Thorin was _completely unbearable._  
  
If he flinched one more time when Bilbo rubbed at his belly, he was going to cuff him a good one! Did he think their child would suddenly appear without warning? Bilbo didn’t know, but his dwarf’s anxiety was rubbing off on him and he had taken to shooing him away recently to clear _both_ their heads.  
  
Though, as he sat there and felt the dull cramp in his back that had been plaguing him for days suddenly increase with worrying strength, he might have been able to stand Thorin’s presence.  
  
Well. That certainly hadn’t happened before. And given the amount of _wetness_ that had gathered under his bottom rather abruptly and unpleasantly, he was fairly sure he knew what was happening.  
  
“Umm,” he managed. Ori glanced up from his tome and raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Are you alright, Bilbo?” he asked, immediately catching the attention of Bofur and Nori.  
  
Bilbo shrugged. “Yes yes. I believe so. I think that it may be, ah, time, though. For, you know. This one,” he said, wincing and pointing at his stomach.  
  
There was a beat of silence before Bofur stood so quickly his chair toppled over behind him and he clutched at his hat, eyes wide. “Mahal’s balls! What should we do?” he asked in panic, looking at Bilbo as if he had never seen him before.  
  
The other three occupants in the room gaped at him before Nori let out a disbelieving snort. “Your brother has _nine_ children, don’t you have _any_ idea what to do in these situations?” he asked, rolling his eyes as he stood. Bofur scoffed.  
  
“My brother is not the one carrying those wee ones around with his male bits attached!” he said hotly and Bilbo flushed.  
  
“You don’t have to describe it like that,” he mumbled. Ori reached over and patted his hand reassuringly.  
  
“It’s a _very_ beautiful thing, Bilbo,” he said sincerely, nodding before he stood as well. “What would you like us to do?”  
  
Bilbo sighed, shifting uncomfortably before he clamped his eyes shut against another cramp. “Ah, if you could get me to the rooms Oin has prepared and call for him, I would appreciate it, thank you,” he said and Ori immediately nodded, turning and striding out of the room.  
  
Nori helped Bilbo from his chair as Bofur shuffled around, looking entirely unsure of what he should be doing. “What do you want from me, Bilbo?” he finally asked, coming around to the hobbit’s other side and helping maneuver him to the door with the other dwarf.  
  
“This is perfect, thank you, Bofur,” he said and shot his friend a reassuring smile. He thought he would be in a state of panic as well once this happened but now that it was, he felt entirely calm, if not a bit excited.  
  
With the help of his friends and a flurry of guards that went into action once they had been spotted in the halls, Bilbo made it quite safe and sound into the birthing room Oin and some other healers had prepared for him. They were made in what was previously the king’s mother’s private sitting room. He had assured Bilbo she would have been very happy with the arrangement.  
  
As he kindly and patiently requested what he knew he needed and _thought_ he might need from his friends and the dwarven guards, he was settled comfortably in his bed and dressed for the occasion under his sheets.  
  
After a rather short period of time, Oin bustled quickly into the room, three other healers hot on his trail, Ori following along behind them. He looked very worried.  
  
“What is it?” Bilbo asked with a frown and the dwarf sighed, wringing his hands together.  
  
“The king is in the mines,” he said sadly.  
  
“Oh dear,” Bilbo muttered as his stomach churned.  
  
“He’ll bring down the whole _Mountain_ on his way here,” Ori moaned with a slow shake of his head as he gave the healers room to work.  
  
The mines were about the furthest place Thorin could be from him at the time and Bilbo hoped it wasn’t because of scaring him away. He would feel quite terrible then. His husband was going to exhaust himself just making the mad dash to his side and Bilbo hoped that Dwalin would be with him to help the king keep his head.  
  
“Alright!” Oin hollered, clapping his hands together and causing nearly every person in the room to wince. “We need you three out! Go on, out of here, we have important work to do! It’s not every day the king’s Consort gives birth!”  
  
Ori was starting to look a bit green, but he hesitated on his way out and Bilbo snorted. “We’ll tell you how it went _after_ , Ori, then you can record it,” he said, waving his friend off. The dwarf had expressed great interest in writing down all aspects of the pregnancy and wanted to do the same for the birth, to mark it down in Erebor’s history, but he wouldn’t be able to actually _witness_ the entire thing. Though it looked like he wouldn’t be able to make it through even if he had been allowed, given his current coloring.  
  
Once the door was closed and he was thoroughly examined, all of the healers muttering in interested Khuzdul and causing his face to burn, Oin looked at him knowingly. “Now, given this is everyone’s first time, are you going to be able to help us through it, lad? We still might need it, despite all that haughty advice those tree shaggers gave,” he said and Bilbo nodded.  
  
“Of course. I think so. If I pass out, slap me and I should come to,” he said with a small grin and Oin snorted.  
  
“Will do. Alright you lot, let’s get to work and see what kind of mess we have on our hands today.”  
  
——  
  
Bilbo knew it would take a good long while, but he still began to get nervous after over half an hour with no word about the king. Oin scolded him and informed him that the secret door wasn’t the _only_ one in the Mountain and Thorin would likely be able to cut time going through lesser known passages.  
  
When Bilbo had muttered about the strong likelihood of Thorin getting lost and never being found, even in his own Mountain, they had both had a good snicker at the king’s expense.  
  
After a few more moments, three quick knocks sounded at the door and Oin barked out an order in Khuzdul. Balin poked his head in, eyes kindly on the ceiling, even if they didn’t need to be at that moment.  
  
“The king will be here any moment now, we can hear him shouting from out here,” he informed them and Bilbo slumped in relief.  
  
It couldn’t have been more than a minute later before Bilbo himself heard deep barks of Khuzdul in the hall, likely asking the state of his hobbit, and then Thorin burst through the door.  
  
He didn’t make it two steps in before Oin was blocking his way, waving his hands. “No! Absolutely not, Thorin! You will not be in here covered in soot and sweat and whatever else you have going on! Clean yourself first and then join us,” he said, his unnecessarily loud volume working in his favor at the moment.  
  
Bilbo watched Thorin’s face darken quite dangerously as he stood his ground, clenching his hands into fists. “Oin, I will see my consort,” he said quietly, leaving no room for an argument.  
  
Said Consort groaned, dropping his head back onto his pillows, drawing Thorin’s gaze from over Oin’s shoulder. His face immediately morphed into such a state of concern that Bilbo began to laugh.  
  
“Thorin, for Yavanna’s sake, listen to him. Do you honestly think I want you anywhere near me like that? Look at your hands! You’re filthy. Go wash up and change, Oin thinks we’ve got a bit to go yet. The only thing you’re missing is a discussion about the usefulness of cloves in cooking and healing. Go on or I’ll have Oin toss you out,” he said, waving both his hands in a shooing motion at the dwarf. “Authority is not yours in here, thank you.”  
  
The king hesitated, moving ever so slightly backward before he moved forward again, his face twisting into pained uncertainty. After a very pointed look from the hobbit, he finally let out an angry growl and turned on his heel, storming from the room.  
  
Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Goodness. You would think something terribly important was happening in here,” he mumbled as he relaxed, heart calm after seeing Thorin’s face. Being an idiot aside.  
  
——  
  
Bilbo would rather not discuss what happened over the next eleven and a half hours, thank you very much.  
  
It all went a bit more smoothly than everyone had been expecting. They only really hit one snag halfway through when Oin had threatened to throw Thorin out on his arse if he didn’t stop asking bothersome questions and when Bilbo had wholeheartedly agreed, the king seemed to realize what kind of support was needed and kindly shut his mouth.  
  
After that, it was a mixture of excitement, annoyance, and some rather woozy thoughts when Bilbo was given something for the pain, reassured that it would do no harm to the babe.  
  
And then squalling filled the room and something warm and _right_ snapped into place in Bilbo’s heart, something he hadn’t realized he was missing until that very second when his child entered the world.  
  
There was a moment of tension when Oin took the infant to examine it, Thorin holding onto Bilbo’s hand in a white-knuckled grip, but then the healer had walked back with a grin on his face. “A girl, healthy as can be,” he said, his voice the most gentle the hobbit had ever heard it.  
  
Thorin let out a pained noise as he eagerly watched Oin hand over the dark-haired babe to Bilbo, settling her on his chest, red faced and crying very unhappily. His dwarf swooped in to get a closer look at her as Bilbo cupped her head and rear, thumbs running eagerly over her soft skin.  
  
“ _Khajmel_ ,” Thorin whispered, voice hoarse with emotions as he stared down at his daughter. He seemed terrified but at Bilbo’s teary smile, he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers along the infant’s arm. A grin spread over his face and he laughed, pressing a kiss to his hobbit’s forehead before he did the same to his daughter.  
  
“She’s perfect,” Bilbo whispered as he sniffled, burying his nose in the babe’s soft, dark hair, inhaling her scent. It was always his favorite thing to do when his cousins or friends had their fauntlings but it was a very new and most wonderful experience when it was his own child. “Smell her, go on.”  
  
Thorin immediately obliged and nosed at his daughter, his white grin not slipping off his face for even a moment. “ _Gayadê_. I did not dare ever dream to have something so beautiful in my life,” he said softly before looking at Bilbo. “Thank you, _ghivashel_. You have given me the greatest gift.”  
  
Bilbo snorted, unable to help it as he lifted his hand to brush off his cheeks. “You did half the work, so I have to thank you for this gift as well,” he said with a grin of his own before he looked back down at his snuffling daughter.  
  
As they touched and kissed the babe as much as she would allow before she would begin to get stuffy, there were very distinct whispers increasing in volume on the other side of the door. Bilbo could not make out the words but it seemed to be an argument. He gave a sidelong glance to Thorin, who sighed and nodded once at Oin.  
  
The healer opened the door and peered out. “Keep it down, you lot!” he barked. “Our hobbit is well and with a very healthy babe. A girl.”  
  
A very much not quiet roar went through the hall, half made of groans and the other half of cheers.  
  
Bilbo lifted his hand and gently rubbed at his face. “They took wagers,” he whispered in disbelief before he looked to Thorin. The dwarf looked torn between being annoyed and not caring at all as he stared at the door, then looked back to his hobbit.  
  
“We could not expect any different,” he said with a shrug, managing a small smirk and Bilbo rolled his eyes, sniffing.  
  
“I suppose not. Ah well. Let them have their fun,” he said, looking down and over his daughter’s small face, eyes closed and mouth glistening with drool. Yes, she was absolutely perfect and he found he did not care much else about anything except the dwarf at his side and the babe in his arms.  
  
——  
  
Fili and Kili were the first two allowed in after everything had settled and their daughter had been wrapped up in a cozy bundle, Bilbo able to sit up and hold her. He had been very selfishly hesitant to hand her over to Thorin until the dwarf had glared and he realized how foolish he was being.  
  
But he still wasn’t quite prepared for the brothers to hold her.  
  
“She’s _amazing_ ,” Kili whispered, kneeling down and staring into the face of his sleeping cousin. “Fee, look at her! Look, look at how little she is.”  
  
Fili sighed at his brother, kneeling right next to him before grinning at the babe. “She is. Bit smaller than dwarrows. She’s lovely, Bilbo, Uncle,” he said and they both proceeded to croon over her.  
  
“Look, she has Uncle’s beak,” Kili said after a moment, pointing at her small nose and Bilbo let out a surprised chuckle, glancing at Thorin.  
  
The king was sending a small glare toward his nephews, but Bilbo could see it was _completely_ put on, given that his lips were quirking and his eyes were filled with such obvious pride. Ridiculous oaf.  
  
Dwalin and Balin were next. Balin was chuckling merrily even as he used a handkerchief to wipe his eyes, beaming between the two of them and offering very sincere congratulations.  
  
His brother had his big hairy face in front of the babe’s and she was squinting blearily at him while her small little hand gripped one of his large fingers. He was happily introducing himself as ‘Uncle Dwalin’ and rambling on about how beautiful and special she was in a very high-pitched voice, the one Bilbo himself used whenever he was speaking to babes.  
  
Thorin and he had exchanged a small look before the dwarf had firmly kept his eyes away from Dwalin, shoulders shaking as he attempted to keep in what Bilbo had known would be very loud guffaws, not wanting to startle his daughter. If Dwalin noticed, he certainly didn’t care.  
  
The hobbit’s fondness for the brute had increased tenfold from there on.  
  
The ‘Ri brothers came next and Dori very predictably burst into tears, managing to keep them silent as he gripped Ori’s shoulder tight. His brother was staring in awe at the babe, as if he had never seen anything like her, and then he was beaming at Bilbo and eagerly expressing how he would describe her in his texts.  
  
Nori was sitting on the end of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he watched with such a soft smile on his face that Bilbo was tempted to follow Dori into tears. He knew the look of someone who wanted to keep their distance and not hold such a small thing, however, so he didn’t offer. The dwarf would ask when he was ready.  
  
“Bilbo,” Ori whispered shyly, biting at his lip as he looked at his friend. “Can… can I sketch this? Would that be alright?”  
  
“Ori, you can sketch whatever you would like. We would be most honored,” Bilbo said, beaming, and the dwarf rewarded him with a grin. He quickly moved to a chair in the corner of the room, pulling out his sketching paper and charcoal, eagerly going to work. The hobbit knew he would be framing it the moment he could and commissioning Ori for more.  
  
The dwarf stayed even as his brothers left and the ‘Ur family came next. Bofur had gasped and planted his hands over his cheeks the moment he saw her before he promptly let her grab his fingers and made faces at her.  
  
Bombur stood next to his brother, hands clasped over his generous stomach and tears swimming in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter how many times I see them on their first day, it always get to me,” he said, smiling beatifically between Thorin and Bilbo. The king clapped him on the shoulder and murmured congratulations once again on Bombur’s own newest addition. They were a week apart.  
  
Bifur kept his distance much the same as Nori had, simply chuckling and grinning whenever the babe snuffled or gurgled. When Bifur and Bofur had left, Bombur paused at the door and shot a grin of his own at them.  
  
“Bifur may be better with babes than any other dwarf I’ve ever known. Myself included, actually. My cousin is a blessing! He would gladly take her up in his arms if he didn’t already know how much she’s been fussed over today,” he explained with a shrug. Bilbo would _not_ blubber.  
  
“Well, he is most welcome to take her off our hands when we are in need of it,” he said with a laugh and then they said their goodbyes.  
  
There was a small reprieve between visits and Thorin had gladly taken his daughter again, slowly wandering around the room and whispering in Khuzdul to her. Bilbo dearly wished he understood it because he very much wanted to know how much of a sap his husband was being. But he simply sat and watched, holding Ori’s beautiful sketch in his hands. A rather detailed one of Thorin, Bilbo, and their daughter nestled in the hobbit’s arms. The king had a very soft smile as he gazed down at her and Bilbo had no problem admitting he had cried quite heartily when he had been given the drawing by Ori.  
  
After some time, Gloin and his son Gimli entered to offer congratulations.  
  
“Oho! Look at the wee one! Spitting image of Thorin, I’d say,” Gimli had announced with a chortle.  
  
“I agree, but I am proud to say she has my feet for all that she is him otherwise,” Bilbo declared.  
  
Gloin had proceeded to wax poetically about the babe and how proud he was of both of them, considering where they had started in their journey and what they had faced, and it wasn’t until Oin pulled his brother and nephew from the room that Bilbo felt he could breathe again. Goodness, the dwarf was passionate about family and their stories.  
  
Dis was last, as Bilbo had suspected she might be, and he loved her all the more for it.  
  
She slipped quietly into the room and came to stand next to Bilbo, looking down at her niece with a fierce pride of her own. Dis and her brother cracked foreheads so loudly Bilbo had flinched, but thankfully she had only given him multiple smooches all over his face.  
  
“Alright, hand her over,” she said softly with a smile and Bilbo happily did so.  
  
“Ah, there she is. _Khajmel_. How sad, she’s taken after Thorin.” The king grunted unhappily at his sister and she sent a wink Bilbo’s way. “She is precious. Truly. I am so proud of you two and this Mountain is blessed more than it has ever been with your presence, Bilbo, and now this little one’s as well.”  
  
Dis gently swayed, cooing at the babe now and then before she looked questioningly at the pair of them. Bilbo chuckled.  
  
“Belladonna,” he said with a fond smile. Dwarflings were given their true names shortly after birth but their outer names weren’t expected to be announced straight away, given they weren’t officially chosen until the parents spent time meeting their young first. Bilbo, however, was not a dwarf and if given a girl, knew she would be a Belladonna the moment she had landed a harsh kick to his ribs.  
  
“Belladonna,” Dis repeated with a grin. “It fits her. I cannot wait to tell my sons they must wait to hear her name when I refuse to give it. You’ve turned them both into dwarflings again, I had to send them to bed and they moaned at me for ten minutes. I fear the day they decide to bring their own into the world.”  
  
Thorin and Bilbo both chuckled at that and then promptly shut their mouths when Dis turned a critical eye on them. “Look at you both. Thorin, you can barely stand. For Mahal’s sake, have you not even rested a moment? Sleep, both of you. You’ll need it,” she said firmly. Bilbo knew this was her game all along and so he simply smiled obediently, settling himself down as comfortably as he could manage, giving room for Thorin to join him.  
  
When the dwarf hesitated, Bilbo patted the bed meaningfully and he finally sighed, slipping into it. He immediately curled in on his hobbit, cupping his cheek and turning his head, gifting Bilbo with a very warm and very much needed kiss.  
  
“Shield your eyes, little one, you are much too young to witness Thorin making a fool out of himself,” Dis whispered and Bilbo snickered against his dwarf’s lips.  
  
The king shot his sister a rude hand gesture and she mock gasped at him before waving him off. She had settled herself into a comfortable armchair nearest to the crib Bofur had made for them, holding Belladonna in her arms, fully prepared to give them all the rest they dearly needed. Bilbo felt very warm and entirely loved, the joy radiating from his friends and family having settled firmly into his chest. This was indeed home and he was very glad for it.  
  
Thorin and he whispered quietly with each other until Bilbo nodded off mid-sentence. His dwarf placed a kiss to his brow with a murmured ‘ _âzyungel_ ’ before he tucked his head into Bilbo’s shoulder and quickly followed him.  
  
**_  
—— Some years later, An Epilogue… ——_**  
  
  
As Bilbo heard a soft hiss a few feet from where he was sitting in his armchair, he lifted his eyes to glance at his husband, whose face was pinched.  
  
He was surrounded by two children, a little girl on his right and a small boy on his left. _Their_ children. Thorin was currently entertaining them by allowing each to braid his hair in whatever way they wished.  
  
Bella was six and her fingers were very deft - it seemed as if Thorin had a rather nice plait going on, from what Bilbo could see. Their daughter looked most satisfied before she checked in on her brother’s work and huffed, beginning to show him the ‘right’ way to braid.  
  
Little Frain was four and a lost cause. Thorin’s hair was lightly oiled but their son still managed to make it look like a bird’s nest, which Bella was now trying to correct, a long-suffering air around her.  
  
Bilbo snorted and turned back to the book resting on his swollen belly with a small shake of his head.  
  
Their children were perfect. Belladonna had been born black-haired and blue-eyed and hadn’t changed one bit. Well, except for the scatter of dark hair growing on her cheeks. She was all Thorin except for her unruly curls and rather large feet.  
  
Frain strongly took after Bilbo, short and chubby thus far, large hairy hobbit feet a prominent feature as he chose to go without shoes like his father. He had the same honey-colored hair and toothy dimpled grin. Though a faint peach-colored fuzz was appearing at his jawline and Bilbo hoped it wouldn’t end up as sparse as Kili’s still remained.  
  
They both certainly had Thorin’s pointy nose, however, and not Bilbo’s upturned one. And they _both_ had been gifted with those wonderfully bright blue eyes and the hobbit was very pleased indeed.  
  
It was a bit amusing how the similarities stopped at their looks - their personalities were switched around, much unlike their fathers. Bella was fussy, endlessly concerned with manners, and _extremely curious about everything there ever was_. Little Frain was Thorin - surly, shockingly serious for a four year old most days, and didn’t mind giving you the what-for. He had also recently picked up a very formal attitude after spending time watching Erebor’s citizens speak to their king.  
  
Thorin was rather disgruntled when he had started calling him ‘Father’ in a very drawn out way instead of his normal ‘Papa’ or ‘Da.’ Bilbo was humbled by the honor that Frain still addressed him as such.  
  
“Bilbo.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I require your assistance.”  
  
“You seem to be doing quite alright on your own.”  
  
Thorin shot him a both pleading and scathing gaze and his hobbit stuck his tongue out at him. “I am afraid that I have already made my imprint on this chair for the evening and I won’t be moving until well after you have put the little rascals to bed. It’s odd how being the size of an oliphaunt can make it hard for one to move,” he said, sighing and shrugging his shoulder. “You will have to help yourself, my love.”  
  
“Papa doesn’t have to help us anyways, we’re doing good!” Frain chirped before leaning in to his sister. “Right?”  
  
Bella nodded seriously. “Yes. We don’t need any help. I’ve been doing this for _years_ now,” she implored and Bilbo snorted into his book.  
  
Thorin sighed, moving his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he gave a grunt at a particularly hard pull. “If you only put your attentions on me, how will your father get his own hair braided?” he grumbled, glancing at Bella from the corner of his eye.  
  
She gave him a look as if she thought him completely and utterly ridiculous. “Papa’s hair was braided very good, I mean, um… _well_ , braided well, this morning. He didn’t make his hair all messy like you, Da,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval.  
  
“I was at the training grounds,” Thorin retorted so seriously it had Bilbo laughing. “Sometimes intricate braiding doesn’t last when one is practicing at battle.”  
  
“Are there any battles going on, Father?” Frain asked most formally and Thorin’s eyes went skyward.  
  
“No, my sun, there are not. But it is always best to be prepared for one. You have to be ready and strong, lest you get caught unprepared by one that wishes to tickle you to your untimely death,” he said, twisting around to look at his children. They seemed to take a moment to process his words before Bella gasped and then squealed as Thorin reached for her, dodging his hands and running to hide behind a chair. Frain caught on when his sister had started to run, but his father caught him and began to relentlessly tickle his sides.  
  
Bilbo winced at the high-pitched screaming, closing one eye and peering over his book with the other. A well placed (possibly accidental) kick had Thorin grunting loudly and releasing his son, who ran squealing to hide with his sister. A good tickle would always free one from sticky-pawed children.  
  
His dwarf stood with care, holding his hand to his ribs and giving Bilbo a pointed look. He grinned at Thorin, laughing a bit at the mess of his hair as he went to work on untangling it.  
  
“My hair has never been in such a state,” he declared and Bella scoffed.  
  
“That was Frain’s fault, he’s so terrible at it!” she whined as she came out from behind the chair, dragging her feet.  
  
“Perhaps you should spend more time teaching him than scolding him,” Bilbo suggested with a raised eyebrow. She wrinkled her nose at him before she went back to drag her brother forward and closer to his parents.  
  
“I’ll do my best, Da, but I can’t swear on anything,” she said with a firm shake of her head. Her fathers exchanged a sidelong glance before shaking their own heads.  
  
Thorin sighed as he leaned against Bilbo’s armchair, looking between his children. “It is late and time for sleep, _thutrel_ , _urzudrel_ ,” he said and was immediately met with whines of protest.  
  
“Do we have to Papa? Can’t we stay up a bit late tonight? We aren’t tired at all!” Bella begged them both, her brother yawning widely behind her before he seemed to realize it and attempted to cover it.  
  
“Yeah! Father, Da, can we? We’ll be really good, we swear it,” he said quickly. They were looking with those doe-eyes that tugged on Bilbo’s heart every time. With Thorin, they only worked half the time.  
  
“No. It is time for sleep, you both have lessons in the morning,” he said firmly, motioning with his head toward their children’s shared room attached to theirs. Those ‘lessons’ typically involved Balin and many royal guards herding the children about the Mountain, telling stories about her history and explaining the many functions they came across that kept her moving. “Come.”  
  
Bella and Frain gasped as one, attaching themselves to each of Bilbo’s legs. “Papa! We have to say goodnight to our little brother or sister!” their daughter admonished.  
  
“It’s bad luck not to,” Frain agreed before they both clambered into Bilbo’s lap with a bit of care given his state. He chuckled as he set his book aside and two small heads pressed one ear each against his stomach.  
  
“Night night, little brother or sister. Papa says we’ll see you soon and we already made you a present but you’ll have to wait until you come out to see,” Bella whispered and Frain nodded along.  
  
“Yeah, Belly says you’ll like it and I hope so ‘cause I don’t wanna make another one. Uncle Kili said he hopes you aren’t a screamer like Belly was when she was just as little as you and I hope so too ‘cause when cousin Bombin screams it hurts my ears and makes me sad. Uncle Fili said he thinks you’ll look like a troll ‘cause we stole all the cuteness in Erebor but I hope that’s not true ‘cause it wouldn’t be fair then. Go to sleep now and we’ll come tell you stories tomorrow,” Frain whispered and Bilbo’s heart may have melted, as it did every night during this routine.  
  
He gave his children big kisses and hugs and wished them sweet dreams before Thorin herded them off to their room.  
  
His dwarf didn’t appear for at least another fifteen minutes and when he did, he looked rather exhausted. Bilbo snorted and shook his head in mock disappointment. “I would say they’re less of a handful than those nephews of yours,” he said with a shrug.  
  
Thorin shot him a quick glare. “Perhaps most of the time but not when putting them to bed. You are lucky you have an excuse but we both know you _are_ capable of joining me,” he said, most unimpressed.  
  
Bilbo scoffed. “When you start carrying around a squirming thing that’s half dwarf, I’ll take your opinion into consideration, thank you. Now help me up, you oaf, I’m actually rather ready to lay down while I read,” he said, holding his hands out expectantly.  
  
Thorin gave him a flat stare but obliged none the less, effortlessly pulling Bilbo to his feet. He wrapped his arms around his husband and nosed gently into his curls. “I’m not sure how I will survive three,” he murmured, sliding one hand around to stroke against his hobbit’s belly.  
  
Said hobbit chuckled, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow. “I told you it would be seven. Then you can start complaining about a bit of tiredness,” he teased and Thorin groaned.  
  
“I no longer know if you are joking or not when you say that,” he mumbled, frowning at Bilbo. The hobbit laughed loudly.  
  
“I believe _you_ were the one who begged me not to go back to those herbs we first started with to stop _this_ from happening. Let’s see if you finally want to after this one is out.”  
  
Thorin was quiet for a moment before he pulled back, sliding his hand to Bilbo’s and tugging him along toward their bedroom. The hobbit snorted. “Yes, that’s what I thought,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.  
  
“Children are so rare here that it is hard to ignore the blessing you have been given. You are considered just as much of a rarity among Erebor,” Thorin said as they stepped into their rooms, gently pushing Bilbo forward as he closed the door behind him.  
  
“Yes, I know, I remember the exact moment the Mountain stopped thinking I was entirely suspicious and possibly an enemy and went to believing Hobbits had fairy magic in their blood and needed to be protected at all costs. I still say I hope no other hobbits venture this way or they will swiftly destroy my godly status,” he announced, shaking his head sadly at the thought as he undressed.  
  
Thorin snorted and helped Bilbo settle into bed - it was just slightly too much for him when he was weighed down as he was then. “We would not want any to find you are simply an odd, fussy little creature whose talents only lie in food, song, and nagging,” he said with an arched brow as he leaned against the bed near Bilbo’s hip.  
  
“Excuse me, but I seem to remember saving your life from orcs and getting you out of a few sticky situations besides. If not for my cunning you would still be stuck in Thranduil’s dungeon, rotting away and that would have been quite a shame. I would have visited that wyrm and complained about the idiocy of dwarves; we would have likely become fast friends then in our mutual dislike of you stubborn clotheads,” he said with a shrug of his shoulder as he got comfortable, opening his book again.  
  
When he glanced at Thorin, he saw him staring at him with both amusement and exasperation, shaking his head a little. “Mahal save us from a hobbit that makes friends with dragons,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a kiss on Bilbo’s forehead, his hand resting on the stomach that was carrying their third child.  
  
Bilbo shot him a quick smile before Thorin pulled away, undressed, and slid into bed next to him. He immediately snuggled into the hobbit’s side, wrapping his arm protectively over his belly, nosing into Bilbo’s neck.  
  
After a few moments of peaceful silence and as Bilbo continued to read, he was slightly distracted by lips brushing over his shoulder, a hint of tongue following and possibly a wandering hand as well.  
  
He huffed. “Oh for Yavanna’s sake, Thorin, _really?_ ” he muttered, giving his husband the stink-eye. This act had, unfortunately, been dwindling down in frequency as of late for obvious reasons and it really wasn’t fair. “It’s very hard, you know.”  
  
“Yes, indeed it is,” the dwarf murmured against his skin, hand slipping under his soft, oversized trousers and rubbing gently at his bare hip.  
  
Bilbo paused, turning to gape at him, opening his mouth before he closed it. “That was possibly the worst innuendo I have heard in all my life,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. The dwarf lifted his own head, grinning like a fool and Bilbo began to laugh.  
  
“I suppose if we absolutely must, we best get on with it.”

**Author's Note:**

> gUUUyyS no that's how this all _started_.
> 
> As if this could end in anything but ridiculous fluff. All the tropes with the Company but they're my faves so I had to. Fili and Kili are as much uncles as Bilbo is to Frodo in my mind. Do dwobbit ages not make sense HAH I don't care cause they're six and four ok and they're going to act like it. They're also maybe sort of based on the large amount of second cousins I have. 
> 
> I was originally going to separate the epilogue but I'm kind of just done now. lol
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, I never would have continued this without all your kind words and support. It's meant a lot. Like goodness, thank you so much. <3


End file.
